


Black Hole

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Series: Immemorial [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad Science, Codependency, Dark, Fix-It, Fluff, Insanity, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Self-Esteem Issues, Time Vortex, Torture, also this is the closest to smut i've ever come to posting on here SO, have fun with that, ish, kind of...?, seriously i don't know what i'm talking about, severed limbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 14:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6426892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He goes by many names," Rip murmurs, just loud enough for the others to hear, "The Absence. Omega. To the majority of the Time Masters, he is called Null." Casting a grave glance at each of them, "The opposite of Chronos. Where he appears, time is not just skewed; it is erased. He leaves nothing but darkness and..."</p><p>Snart finishes for him, "Cold."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Hole

**Author's Note:**

> So I thought I'd try my hand at a Fix-It for 1x09. Here you go.
> 
> Like I said in the tags, this has a non-linear narrative. Because time travel...and, if we're being honest here, laziness. Also, obviously there's some diverging from canon here.
> 
> Oh, and one more thing: I'm not 100% sure this should be M rated. Please let me know if you think a T would suit it better.

"You wanna kill me? Kill me. But only one of us is walkin' out of here alive."

"...you're right."

 

*******************

 

Half of Aldus' body is missing.

More than that. A twisted feeling wrenches Kendra's gut as she looks at the empty place where legs should be and can't remember ever seeing them.

"Oh no."

Rip's muttered words capture their attention. He, on the other hand, is already scanning the sky.

"We need to get back to the ship," he orders.

Kendra's wings push at her back. "We can't just leave him!"

"I'm afraid we must!"

They insist on at least burying him. All the while, most of them send Rip hard glares for his apparent restlessness as he's forced to wait for Kendra and Carter to say their goodbyes.

As soon as they're back on the ship, Kendra rails him for it. But Rip doesn't respond. In fact, he keeps very, very still until she's burned herself out.

Silence follows.

Finally, Jax demands what they're all dying to ask: "Who were those guys?"

To this, Rip replies readily enough, "Bounty hunters. The larger one is called Chronos. Where there is a time anomaly, like the one we have created on our mission, he is sent to restore it to rights."

When he doesn't go on, Sara's eyes narrow.

"The one who killed Aldus. What about them?"

Silence again.

"He goes by many names," Rip murmurs at last, just loud enough for the others to hear, "The Absence. Omega. To the majority of the Time Masters, he is called Null." Casting a grave look at each of them, "The opposite of Chronos. Where he appears, time is not just skewed; it is erased. He leaves nothing but darkness and..."

Snart finishes for him, "Cold."

A quiet scoff. "That is certainly one word for it, Mr. Snart. He and Chronos travel together, but due to his unique skills, he rarely enters the playing field."

"Until now," Ray helpfully supplies.

Rip nods, "Until now. And neither of them will stop until we are either dead or completely erased from time."

"And given our," Stein hesitates to say it, casting a glance about the room, "status in the timeline, that would hardly create further problems for the Time Masters."

"Correct, Dr. Stein. We need to lay low for the time being, until we are absolutely certain they're no longer on our tail."

Mick sneers, "Great. Cooped up on this spaceship with nothing to burn."

Len throws a smirk his way. "I'm sure we can find some way to entertain you that doesn't involve blowing us to smithereens."

"Good luck with that, Snart."

 

*******************

They're leaving 2046. Mick feels lost. He's felt lost before, granted, but not this kind. At least in those days, he was where he belonged, where he  _knew_ he belonged.

Now he can't even look at Snart without wanting to erase this fucking ship from existence.

_Friends. Team._

They were supposed to be fucking friends, or close to it at least. They were supposed to be a fucking team.

Now little Lenny's off playin'  _hero_ , and where does that leave Mick? Stranded with no hope of getting home, snatching him away from the one place he might've called his new one. If he ever got the fucking chance.

It takes days for Snart to grow a pair. Half a one, anyway, since of course he sneaks into Mick's room like he wouldn't be caught dead doing it when someone could see him.

Well that's fine, 'cause Mick doesn't wanna talk to him either. Soon as Len's got a foot in the room, Mick's hauling him to the bed by his shirt collar.

He shoves his fingers into Len's hole and fucks him like that until he's screaming into one of his old scarves, clawing at the thin sheets, begging to come. But Mick just grips the base of his cock and keeps him just on the edge, drinking in every trembling muscle, every centimeter of dilation in those pupils. Len claws at his arms, raking his nails along the burn scars like it'll somehow convince Mick to curl his fingers the way he likes.

He slides his fingers out, smirking as Len gives an honest-to-fuck whimper. Yanking the gag out, he runs them over Len's parted lips, painting them until they glisten.

Then Mick reclines on the opposite end of the bed and gestures to his pants. Len pushes himself up and undoes them, fingers fumbling over themselves in a way that burns sweet in Mick's gut.

Len's tongue is just darting out to lick him from base to tip when an idea strikes Mick. He could make Snart promise to never do something like 2046 again. Could make him promise to stay. They've been together long enough that Len's learned to lose himself when they fuck; in the heat of the moment, he'd be just like anybody else who'd say anything for release.

This idea's sparked in Mick's head plenty of times. But at least out of the two of them, Mick's not the one who manipulates anyone. He knows what trust is supposed to look like.

Another wave of white hot anger bursting through his limbs, Mick digs his nails into Len's neck and yanks him down. Len chokes in surprise, but he's good at thinking on his feet. All he does is stretch his jaw.

Afterwards, they still don't talk.

 

*******************

 

"I  _am_ sorry, Mick."

"Knew you didn't have the guts."

 

********************

 

_The IQ of meat._

_Recruited because you and your partner are a package deal._

Mick's never felt  _nothing_ before. It's strange. He wonders if this is why Len gets so quiet sometimes. Why he curls around himself, subtly, so you gotta know what you're looking for when he does.

 _I wanna go home,_ he thinks, like a child whose mother is late picking him up from school.  _I wanna go home._

More than that, he wants Lenny to come with him. 'Cause Rip's right about one thing: they are a package deal. If there's nothing, no one else Mick can count on in this whenever-the-fuck they are, at least he's still got his partner.

"Guess it's time to choose a side..."

He thought so, anyway.

"Chosen."

Guess he's not worth the trouble after all.

When they lock him up, leave him to discuss what they're gonna do with him, that's what swims in Mick's mind. Idly, he wonders how long Len's kept that to himself: that he'd just been waiting for better options. Would explain a lotta things, actually. Snart never tells him the whole plan, doesn't hesitate to lie to him, use him, order him around. He just never did it as often as everybody else, so Mick ( _dumb, stupid, idiot_ ) never noticed.

Mick found an anchor in Len, but Len. Len never meant to stay.

It's nice to feel nothing. Mick finds the sensation oddly comforting.

 

********************

 

"I love you."

Mick snorts on his beer. "Okay, Snart."

"I mean it, Mick." Lenny practically collapses against his side, eyes all wide and earnest—kinda like the Flash.

Yeah, he's definitely wasted.

"I  _love_ you."

Ignoring the cold blaze seeping into his bones, Mick snickers, "'Course you do, buddy. Go the fuck t'sleep."

 

********************

 

"Whatcha reading?"

The scrawny kid—Snart, Len, whatever—tilts his book so Mick can see the cover.

"That don't gimme an answer, kid."

Thankfully, Len chalks it up to the dim lighting in their cell. " _Great Gatsby_. Not much else they got in here, so I had to settle."

Mick grunts and rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. After a minute, he swallows and quietly asks, "What's it about?"

"Thought it was on the curriculum for juniors in high school."

"Never got there. Place kicked me out."

Len says, "Ah. Well, basically a guy and a girl fall in love but he's poor as shit, so he goes off and gets rich, comes back, she's married, he tries to get her to leave her husband, and the jazz age gets a little screwed up. Oh, and he dies." A pause. "There's also an outside narrator and green lights and shit." A noise of disgust, "Now that I'm thinkin' about it, here."

He has to sit up all the way and stretch his twig of an arm so the book will climb into Mick's sight. For a second, Mick almost feels bad for keeping his top bunk. Almost.

"So you figured I'd wanna read the damn thing?"

He can feel Len's smirk. "Point taken."

The book disappears. The knot in Mick's throat tightens.

 

********************

 

They're alone for the first time since they joined this freak show of a "team."

After they're done fucking, Mick takes his time biting across Len's shoulder and down his side like he always does. His skin tastes bitter after sex and it's fuckin' amazing.

Len indulges in a pleased hum, obligingly tucking his other arm under the pillow to give Mick more room. Instead of curling his legs to his stomach, he stretches them out, turning onto his back when nudged.

"Glad you decided to come along?" he asks, closing his eyes.

Mick reaches his thigh and mumbles, "Long 's I get to use my gun, ain't gonna have no problems."

He nips on that spot midway up his inner thigh. Len shivers.

"Careful, Mick. Wouldn't want me to get the wrong idea."

Mick smirks into his skin, contentment simmering behind his eyes.

They might've signed up for some weird shit, but at least they've got this.

 

********************

 

Chronos and Null take over the Waverider after everyone's on board, as if they were just  _waiting_ for their victims to line themselves up for slaughter.

With twin blasts of neon yellow and sickly green, they corner the team easily in the small bridge. Sara and Kendra have been knocked out by the butt of their guns, and without them the rest of the team doesn't stand a chance in hand to hand combat.

They're all taken aboard the hunters' ship, thrown into individual cells with muted walls so they can't communicate from the inside.

Null steps forward. Everyone stiffens.

"Not to worry, Captain," his distorted voice says, "My powers are blocked for the time being. We only want to talk to you."

He cuffs Rip. Together, he and Chronos drag him to their larger, darker bridge.

As soon as they've got him hooked to the railing, Rip lifts his chin and tells them, "If you're planning on getting the Waverider, my death will—"

Null interrupts him: "We're not looking to get your ship, Hunter."

"In fact," Chronos adds without missing a beat, "we're not even thinking of killing you yet."

Rip's eyebrows twitch together. "Why not? Surely the Time Masters sent you to kill me. I mean nothing to you alive."

The bounty hunters turn their helmets to each other.

"He still doesn't know." Null's voice, warped as it is, almost sounds  _amused_.

"Know what?" Rip snaps.

In perfect unison, they look back at him.

"You should've figured it out by now," Chronos growls.

They remove their helmets. Rip's entire world tilts dangerously to the right.

"That's not possible," he whispers.

"Well of course  _you_ wouldn't think so," smirks Leonard Snart, gesturing with Null's helmet, "after all, you did leave us for dead."

"All because we wouldn't cooperate with your half-assed  _mission_ ," Mick Rory says.

Even with the same faces, they look so different that Rip hardly recognizes them. Rory stands straight, brute force channeled into formal grace, his face and eyes completely calm even while his voice expresses emotion. Yet Snart's fists are clenched, eyes alight as he glares Rip down, like he's yearning to tear his head clean off and erase him from time with a snap of his fingers. At the same time, there's something horrendously  _empty_ in them, turning them into more monsters than men.

Which begs the question.

" _How_?"

Snart barks out a laugh. It's a hissing, mirthless laugh. But it's Rory who answers: "Did you honestly think you deserved an explanation?"

His eyes flicker. No—they  _glow_. Green with swirls of gold, just like...

Disbelief and terrible guilt gut Rip in two strokes. "So it's true," he breathes, "you really did absorb Time itself."

Snart tilts his head. "Guess we became Legends after all,  _Rip_. Now then." he yanks on Rip's hair until the captain's neck is exposed. "Here's how this is gonna go."

Yet again Rory replies for him: "Time Masters said we could do what we wanted, so long as you and your friends are dead by the end of it. So you're gonna apologize, and then we'll have fun with you. After that, you're gonna apologize again. If we don't think you're sincere enough, we'll let you watch us have fun with your team."

"And then," Snart's eyes don't glow. They burn cold and dark, like two black holes swirling with stars. "Then, we'll start over again. Over and over and over, until you're begging for forgiveness."

"And death," Rory adds. There's a ghost of a smirk on his face now. "But before all of that..."

He unsheathes a knife from his belt and activates it. Green sparks burst from its electric blade. In one swift motion, Rip's hand is smoking on the floor.

When he screams, Snart inhales, as if absorbing the sound. Appeased, his eyes return to their vacant blue.

"One thing you learn in the Vanishing Point, Captain," he says as Rory picks up the severed hand, "is how to enjoy pain, whenever and wherever it comes from."

His glove hisses when removed. The tech suppressing his powers deactivates, yet Rory doesn't hesitate to turn his palm up and purr, "Here you go, sweetheart."

Snart grins from ear to ear, merciless and vicious. "Thank you, Mick," he says, looking at Rip the entire time.

As soon as he clenches around the hand, blue light breaks it into pieces, erasing it from existence. Suddenly, Rip is tormented with two memories at once—knowing that he had a hand, yet not remembering ever having it. For someone so interlaced with Time, it's torture.

Unless, of course, you did the erasing, or can see trillions upon trillions of timelines. Rip Hunter in the past will always have a hand, unless this happens or that, or that, or that. But in those fixed moments, he does.

"That's all it takes?" Rory snarls, "Thought you were supposed to know how Time works." he gives Rip a fierce, pointed glare. "And I'm supposed to be the dumb one."

 ...oh.

 _"I'm sorry Mr. Rory, but a serial arsonist was never part of my plan to stop Savage, much less one with the IQ of_ meat _!"_

Oh.  _Oh_.

Bowing over his (not?) missing hand, Rip tells him, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Mr. Rory. I spoke out of anger and misguided hatred."

The oppressive atmosphere doesn't change. Instead, Snart crosses his arms and turns to Rory, asking, "Are you finally going to tell me what he said, then?"

His glove is still in his belt.

No.

Rory shrugs.

 _No_.

"He said I was never meant to be recruited to his team. That he never wanted a 'serial arsonist' in his plan to stop Savage, much less..."

Snart's jaw flexes. There's a murderous look on him now. "Much less  _what_?" he snaps, lips over-enunciating the words.

Rory flicks his gaze between the both of them. He finally settles on a point somewhere above Rip's head.

"Much less one with the IQ of meat."

It's like he set a match to Alexandria.

With a feral yell, Snart surges forward, eyes relapsing into the End. His bare hand rears back, fingers clawed like a beast about to strike. He slams his hand towards Rip's slackened face—

But Rory yanks him back, one arm hooking around the attack, the other hand clenching on the side of his head. His own glove is off.

"Easy there," Rory whispers to the animal still growling at Rip with bared teeth. "Remember your plan, sweetheart. He's gotta apologize before you touch."

Charred stars briefly fill with green and yellow light. For a precious few seconds, Rip's amazement overcomes the overwhelming agony; Rory is using the Time he absorbed to remind the End that there is still a present. He could not erase everything just yet, much less a whole person, without cause.

Snart relaxes into heavy pants, blinking his eyes back to rights. He shoves out of Rory's arms and yanks his glove back on.

"You know what's beautiful about time travel, Rip?" he asks, an unsettling wildness shining in his returning grin, "We can just stay here, in the vortex, and you'll never age! None of you will! You," jamming a finger at him, "and your little friends will feel every bit of themselves fading away, but I won't erase it all completely. I'll make it so Mick can retrieve your pieces, and I can do it over, and over, and  _over_!"

Leonard Snart is out of control. Rip knows, objectively, that everyone has their breaking point, but he'd never seen Snart's. It took the End, in all its madness, chaos, and darkness, to finally push him over the edge. Yet, somehow, he is still sane, just as Rory is as well.

Of course. They balance each other out. If Time is always moving and the End is always writhing, then they remain at an eternal impasse. In their new conditions, Snart and Rory behave as the laws of the universes dictate.

Chronos and Null. Time and Nothing. Fluctuating and Unending Chaos.

Rory hums, giving a slow, pleasured blink. "I can see it," he murmurs, "it's gonna be magnificent."

Snart rears back and nods to him. "Make him apologize again."

A hint of the old Mick Rory blazes through on a malicious smile. His hand snaps out with a snake's precision, clamping around Rip's throat. "You heard 'im," he rumbles, "Give me another apology, Captain. Make it nice and pretty, and we might just put you in holding a little longer."

Rip knows the opposite is true. Still, he tries to choke out some kind of  _I'm sorry_. Unfortunately, Rory knows he's cutting off his speech.

Rory cups his ear, "Didn't quite catch that." Rip croaks. The hunter says over his shoulder, "Looks like he's not sorry anymore, Lenny."

Snart looks so very pleased. "What a shame. Tell me Mick, out of all the outcomes, which one do you think would be best: the leg, the ear, or the rest of the arm? I'm leaning towards the arm."

Time swirls in Rory's eyes. He definitely knows the answer, but still he says, "You should know the end of it better than me."

"That's true...let's go with the arm. Don't wanna give him too many paradoxes at once; that would spoil all the fun. Mick," Snart reaches for the cuffs, "give me a hand."

 

********************

 

The cold gun fires at a bush.

"I  _am_ sorry, Mick."

Mick keeps his guard up. He's been a pawn in Snart's game too long. "Knew you didn't have the guts."

"Come on," Len says, motioning back towards the ship. At Mick's disbelieving scoff, he says, "I still think you can't be trusted around the team, Mick, but I also think you can get your head screwed on right if you try. I'm not leaving you here."

Mick hesitates for all of five seconds. Damn it, Lenny's still got a hold on him.

He knows what's gonna happen before it does. They board the Waverider, and in an instant every weapon and fireball's locked on Mick.

"Relax," Len calls, replacing his gun in its holster, "I handled it."

"That doesn't look like you handled it," Sara says, low and predatory. Mick's always liked her.

"I didn't say I'd kill him, did I?" Len drawls, "Sometimes a few things get fucked up. It happens."

"So, what?" Ray nearly shouts, "We're just supposed to act like he never betrayed us?"

That's when Mick tries to mumble, "Lenny," but Len takes a threatening step towards Rip.

"Captain," he snaps, as if Ray never spoke at all, "you don't wanna keep him with the team? Fine. But if you plan on leaving him alone out there, you better leave me too."

" _Lenny_ ," Mick tries again.

"I didn't leave you in 2046, Mick. I got no intention of leaving you now."

"That—"

"Fine."

Shock slams everyone into silence. Stunned, the team, Len, and Mick stare with varying degrees of wide eyes and slacked jaws at a calm Rip Hunter.

"If you want to stay with the man who betrayed you and will in all probability kill you," Mick bristles at the accusation, "then your sense of judgment is worse than I thought."

"You're joking," Jax says. Then, "Are you serious?!"

"Rory might have betrayed us, but Snart chose to stay on our side!" Kendra cries, "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Rip remains impassive. "As you can see, Ms. Saunders, that was only a temporary decision. If it means risking the rest of this team, then letting them go seems to be the best option."

Mick nearly jumps out of his skin when Len snaps, " _Fine_. Then take us back to 2016 and we'll get out of your hair."

Here's the long and short of it: they don't.

Instead, they watch as the Waverider takes off, leaving them in the middle of a cold forest without any notion of where or when they are.

"What've you done?" Mick snaps.

Len shoves past him, "We're gonna get out of this."

"You should've stuck to the plan, Snart! The one time you don't—"

Len rounds on him, " _I said_ we're gonna get out of this!"

" _How_?"

Len responds by charging his cold gun. "We find civilization. We create the biggest fucking anomaly the Time Masters have ever seen. We meet up with them, they dump us back to our time."

"Or kill us!"

"We stay, we die! We go, we  _might not_ die! Are you coming with me or not?"

Mick snatches him into a hard, awful mess of a kiss. Lenny clings to him to tight Mick swears his shoulders will start to bleed through his jacket.

"'Course I'm comin' with you, jackass."

Len tugs him back in with his teeth. "You and me," he hisses, "or not at all."

And,  _fuck_ , Mick loves the sound of that.

 

********************

 

Central City, 2016. Lisa Snart is reunited with her brother.

Vanishing Point. Sigma joins the Borealis.

**Author's Note:**

> Why yes that WAS a Doctor Who reference. And yes it was the thing Amy said to Rory before they jumped off the roof. Have fun with that knowledge.
> 
> The Borealis is their ship's name, yes. My wonderful roommate suggested it. Look it up! It's awesome.
> 
> I decided to play with the colors of their gunshots, yes. Where Chronos' gun is green like the show, I thought it'd be cool if I made Null's yellow. On the color spectrum, Blue fades into green, and red fades into yellow. See? Also, the colors of the time vortex.
> 
> Next one's gonna be called Remnants. It'll explore how Len and Mick became Null and Chronos. And Rip will get more beatings. Hello, yes, I am bitter.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!


End file.
